


Loving Each Other in Plain Sight: The Bed

by andrew_justandrew



Series: Loving Each Other in Plain Sight [2]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex Top, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Henry Bottom, M/M, Moving In Together, One Shot, POV Alex, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrew_justandrew/pseuds/andrew_justandrew
Summary: The presidential election is over, Alex and Henry are a public power couple, and now it's time to figure out the rest of their lives together. It's time to love each other in plain sight.Alex and Henry are in Brooklyn for a few days, and there are some things Alex wants to accomplish for their new home—like buying a new mattress. And what's a couple of young guys in love supposed to do with a new mattress but try it out?
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Loving Each Other in Plain Sight [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179902
Comments: 22
Kudos: 80





	Loving Each Other in Plain Sight: The Bed

**Author's Note:**

> I am still pretty obsessed with Alex and Henry and thinking about their life together, post- _RWRB_. I really enjoyed writing the last story and reading all of your feedback, so I'm back again with another. This is the second individual story in this series, and takes place a few days after _The Brownstone Tour_. However, you can also read this as a one shot without any context from the previous story without missing much.
> 
> I'd recommend using the work skin if possible to ensure that the end of this story displays in a way that makes sense.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading! I hope that you'll consider leaving some feedback in the comments—positive or negative, I appreciate it either way.

Alex is pulled from his sleep by three knocks at the door. They’re far too soft, far too subtle to inspire the sort of panic in him that would have caused him to fly out of bed a few months prior. These days, Alex is learning to exist in this new normal where he experienced the most traumatic event of his life and came out of the other side stronger. Before he even opens his eyes, he hears the door open and a soft murmur he recognizes as Henry’s.

That’s when the smell hits him.

Alex pushes himself upwards on his elbows and sees a server rolling a cart into their hotel suite. He and Henry are spending a few days in Brooklyn, New York, after the holidays. The two will be spend most of their time in the city later this year, once Alex’s classes at NYU Law start in the fall. Henry will also begin working on setting up his foundation in earnest, which—amongst other things—will include assuming ownership and management of a homeless shelter nearby.

For now, though, Alex is just enjoying this time with Henry and taking the opportunity to get parts of their life set up before August rolls around. Two days ago, Henry gave Alex a tour of a brownstone he purchased back in November. He feels the key to their soon-to-be home resting on his sternum, having added it to the chain around his neck the other day.

The sever, a short woman with dark hair, seems to be walking on eggshells. Very slowly and very carefully, she removes two trays of food from her cart and sets them on the table in the outer room of the hotel suite. To the right of the table is a set of double doors, currently pushed open, that lead to the bedroom. She must be aware that Alex is laying in bed, but she is very pointedly not looking in this direction.

Alex’s eyes drift upwards from the food being placed on the table and he makes eye contact with Henry, who is standing behind the server but looking at Alex already while he chews his bottom lip. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face, and Alex can’t help but grin. Even in the morning before getting ready for the day, Henry looks good. He’s wearing a light blue t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants that Alex distinctly remembers removing the evening before.

Once her work is done, Henry follows the server out of the hotel suite and closes the door behind her. He turns around, returns his gaze to Alex, and smiles. “Morning, love.”

“Good morning,” Alex half-says and half-yawns in response. He tosses the bedding off to the side. 

Alex is still nude from the night before, and he feels something a lot like butterflies in his stomach when he catches Henry—not nearly as subtle as he thinks he’s being—scanning his eyes down the length of Alex’s body. He fixates on Alex’s hips for a split second longer, then finally says, “stay in bed.”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” Alex responds in jest. He pulls a sheet back over himself, but sits up properly with his head against the backboard and can’t help but think about how incredibly sexy and insanely intimate it was having Henry silently appreciate his body.

“Ugh, you wanker.” Henry’s already turned around, back to Alex, and is removing the lids that cover the plate of food on each tray. “You’ll never believe it, but the hotel has a full traditional British breakfast!”

Henry is carrying a tray of food towards Alex, smiling, when he continues: “Don’t worry, though—I got you the _American_ version.”

Alex laughs out loud as Henry places the tray over his lap. He hadn’t realized it, but his mouth started watering as soon as he smelled the food. “Good. If I can’t escape _baked beans_ for breakfast in England, surely I should be able to avoid them here.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a smirk on Henry’s face. Balancing his own tray, he slides into the bed next to Alex. There are, in fact, a pile of baked beans on his plate. While he is getting settled, Alex moves his mouth next to Henry’s ear. “Thank you. This is very sweet.”

Henry smiles at Alex in return, and the two begin their meal. While they eat, they have perfectly normal conversations and Alex sort of loves that. They talk about current events, about politics. Alex’s family is mentioned, as is Henry’s sister. Henry tells Alex about the manuscript he’s been working on, and Henry appreciates the encouragement that Alex is returning. They debate the merits of pineapple and melon as the superior breakfast fruit.

When Alex is finished eating, he sets the tray down on the floor next to his side of the bed and sinks back into the sheets while Henry finishes. Less than five minutes later, Henry is also finished and Alex expects him to get out of bed and signal a start to their day. To his happy surprise, however, Henry also sits his tray down on the floor and remains under the covers with Alex.

“What’s on the agenda today, love?” Henry asks while he stretches out the full length of his body and leans it against Alex’s side. There’s a spark at the base of Alex’s spine, and he is pretty sure he will ever get tired of the feeling of Henry’s body against his. “A mattress, innit?”

“Yeah,” Alex says before reaching over for the meticulously organized notebook sitting on his nightstand. It is color coded, full of sticky notes, has tabs down the side, and Alex finds the page he’s looking for in seconds. “Bedding, too. Towels, ideally. Anything else we need for our bathroom would be nice.”

Henry nods solemnly as Alex quickly flips through the next few pages in the notebook before setting it aside. He appreciates that Henry isn’t critical of his need to organize. Alex is aware that he shouldn’t need a notebook full of lists and calendars for this time of his life. Back in December, after Alex was offered admission to NYU Law, he and Henry talked about what was next for them. They made a decision that this period of time—right now, after Ellen was re-elected but before the semester begins in August—would be a time to relax together.

Sure, they each had some commitments they couldn’t get out of. And, obviously, there were plenty of things they needed to do—this particular trip to Brooklyn was proof of that. But after their worlds nearly collapsed under the weight of a hidden love, after their most private and personal thoughts were exposed for political advantage, after they were nearly kept apart by Queen Mary and some outdated sense of royal etiquette… well. The two deserved some goddamn time together.

Dutiful as always, Shaan had as much as possible cleared from Henry’s schedule and fiercely guarded the remaining free time. Since the election was over, it was surprisingly easy to get Zahra to grant Alex some freedom. (“But I swear to god, Alex,” she said before he could escape her West Wing office, tapping her pointy fingernails on her desk the whole time. “I will _yank_ you back to this White House _by your dick_ if there is even as much as a _fucking whisper_ of your name involved in another sex scandal.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Alex responded through a laugh that was partially genuine and partially a mask for his fear. “I think Henry and I are out of the sex scandal games these days.” Zahra’s face had suggested that she wasn’t convinced, but Alex left her office before she could say more.)

So even though Alex is thrilled to have this time with Henry, old habits die hard. And color-coded organization, Alex thinks, is one of his oldest habits. Besides, he’s pretty sure that the key to staying relaxed is organization and keeping track of everything that could be stressful so you don’t have to worry about it, rather than just ignoring it and pretending the stress isn’t there.

Denial and repression isn’t really Alex’s thing. Unless… well, unless the topic is Alex’s bisexuality prior to last year. Or all those feelings he had for Henry. Oh, and the whole throwing-himself-into-his-work thing as a way to avoid dealing with unfamiliar emotions. Technically, the way Alex obsessed over Henry’s picture in a magazine when he was twelve years old but, until recently, only even acknowledged that bit of his history when he was drunk…

Everything else, though? That goes on a list. Once it’s on a list, Alex reasons, it can be dealt with. His notebook contains lists of their upcoming commitments: next week, for example, they will return to Washington for his mother’s second inauguration, followed by a week in the United Kingdom. After that, Alex and Henry are going on a _true_ vacation together—just the two of them—and he’s got plenty of lists for that, too, although those aren’t stressful lists (they’re fun lists). For now, however, he’ll focus on the task at hand.

“What kind of mattress do you sleep best on?” Alex asks. If his bed in Kensington is any indicator, Henry’s preference is for something soft—but it also wouldn’t surprise Alex to learn that Henry didn’t even get to select his own mattress.

Henry pauses for a beat too long. Finally: “The kind with you on top.”

And in this moment, with Henry’s body currently leaning against his own, after the romantic gesture of breakfast in bed, following a night of passionate sex, in the midst of a visit to Brooklyn to scope out the situation for their new home as a _couple_ , that comment is just too goddamn much for Alex to do anything but swoon.

Swoon in theory, at least. In practice, it’s more like a jumbled mess of confused words. “ _Ugh_. Fuck, Henry— I can’t— You can’t— Errr. _Jesus_.” Henry’s eyes widen, but before he can interject Alex pushes on. “No. I mean… I just— What’s happening? _Fuck, babe._ ”

Alex’s brain finally catches up with his mouth—two things that are often not in sync nearly as much as they should be—and he stops to take a breath. After a moment, he continues. “Sorry—I just— I mean, is there no limit to how much you can make me fall in love with you? You can’t just say something like that without expecting me to melt.”

Henry tosses his head back into the pillow and laughs, and Alex takes the opportunity to nuzzle up to his throat and kiss the underside of his jaw. They spend an unknown amount of time (Alex can’t keep track when he’s this blissful) like this—kissing lazily, making out, pushing their bodies together and holding each other.

Eventually, the two find their way to the shower, get dressed, and head downstairs to the SUV waiting for them in front of the hotel. One of the British PPOs is driving, and Cash is in the passenger seat. Once they get moving, Cash turns in his seat and explains that he pre-selected this furniture store after speaking with the store’s owner. “If you two find something you like, the owner and I worked out an arrangement to have the order placed under my name and scheduled for immediate delivery. Once we’re all set there, I’ll head back to the brownstone separately while you keeping shopping—”

“There’s a bedding store across the street, and a Target around the corner,” Alex interjects, excitedly, even though Henry is nowhere near as enthusiastic about Target as he is.

“Right,” Cash continues. “So, I’ll ditch this suit for something that doesn’t scream ‘Secret Service’ quite so much, and the mattress delivery guys will be none the wiser. Folks will figure out where you live eventually, but at least we can prevent a couple of delivery people from snooping around your place and selling pictures to the paparazzi.”

Once they arrive at the furniture store, they are greeted by the owner. She’s a tall woman, with piercing green eyes, frazzled red hair, a southern draw, and a name tag that reads “Veronica.” Alex thinks that there is something inherently fascinating about this woman, and he wants to know her life story, but that’s really none of his business.

Instead, she leads Alex and Henry through the store to the mattress area in the back of the building. There are a couple of protection officers outside the store to prevent strangers from following the couple inside, but there is a murmur of recognition from the customers who were already inside before they arrived. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex is fairly certain that a woman just took out her cell phone to take a picture, but he decides to ignore her. Being in the spotlight means that it’s quite normal to be photographed in public, but enough of his private life with Henry has already been shared and he doesn’t want to share anymore by posing, at least right now.

As they shop, it’s very clear that Henry is entirely out of his element but he’s being a good sport about it. Alex moves from mattress to mattress, plopping down on each one to try them out. He encourages Henry to do the same, who instead gently sits down on the edge of the bed to offer his opinion.

“You’ve got to _lay_ on the mattress, H,” Alex says from his back on a particularly firm one. “How else will you know if you want to sleep on it?”

“Well— erm. I’m not entirely clear on the etiquette here,” Henry starts. Alex sits up on his elbows with a bemused expression on his face. Sometimes, Henry’s innocence is just so fucking adorable. “But what if we decide _not_ to purchase this particular mattress? Isn’t it a tad— uh— rude to be laying on someone else’s mattress?”

“Oh, babe— no,” Alex replies. “These are just the floor models. The beds they actually sell will come from the back of the warehouse. If someone buys this specific mattress, they’ll probably pay less and will know it was used as a sample.”

Henry nods and Veronica, who has been trying to stand a respectful distance away, interjects. “Honestly, I could probably put up a sign that says y’all tried these mattresses and people would be banging on my door to pay even _more_.”

Veronica is chuckling as she says this, but stops suddenly as if she is afraid her comment was inappropriate. A beat passes, and then Henry bursts out laughing and so does she.

After trying out all of the mattresses, they return to the one they liked the best. Alex and Henry lay flat on the bed next to each other. Henry offers, “I definitely like this one the most. It’s soft _enough_ , but not _too soft_.”

Veronica steps forward with something to add. “If I could give y’all one more piece of advice— and, forgive me, because this is none of my business. But you should spend a minute or two laying how you would _normally_ sleep before you make a final decision.”

Alex doesn’t wait for Henry’s response and immediately rolls to his side. Before Henry has a chance to move, Veronica says, softly, “I’m just gonna give you some privacy and step away with Mr. Cash here to discuss the delivery details, in case y’all decide to make a purchase. Just wave us down if you need anything, mmkay?”

As she and Cash walk away, Henry moves to his side and scoots in closer to Alex. Alex leans his shoulders back into Henry’s chest. There is some hesitation on his part, but Alex is patient. A few seconds pass, and then Henry reaches over Alex with his arm and grabs Alex’s hand. A few more seconds pass, and he presses one of thighs over Alex’s thigh.

It really is how they sleep most nights, Alex thinks. He is suddenly aware that he is grinning stupidly but doesn’t care and just closes his eyes to enjoy the moment.

Three minutes later, Henry speaks up first: “I think this is it. I’m happy, if you’re happy.”

“I’m happy,” Alex replies, a stupid grin still plastered across his face.

Veronica and Cash are sitting at a sample dinning room set down a ways from the mattresses, and she’s laughing at something he must have just said. Alex has the distinct feeling they interrupted something by approaching, but Cash jumps up and offers Henry his chair. Alex sits down next to Henry while Veronica starts typing on a laptop sitting between them.

Veronica eventually indicates that she’s almost finished, and then exhales. She looks up at Alex and Henry and says, “I’m sorry, y’all—I told myself I was going to be _cool_. But, uhm— I just really wanted to thank you.”

Alex smiles gently, but is confused.

Veronica continues, “Last October, my son, Owen—he’s 15 years old—he and I were sitting down for dinner. It was pizza night and we were sitting in the living room watching television. Well, the news was on, and uh— umm— well, that was the day you gave your speech from the White House.”

Alex swallows hard, but doesn’t say anything. Under the table, Henry reaches over and grabs his hand.

“Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” she continues, and a single tear falls out of her right eye and rolls down her cheek, “you had just said ‘history will remember us’ and suddenly he was just bawling his eyes out. Y’all have to understand— my son and I are _close_. His father died when he was three, and it’s just been him and me. But that night was the first time he told me that he was gay.”

Alex now has tears in his eyes, but he stops himself from glancing at Henry for fear that he’ll get even more emotional if he sees the same thing in his.

“ _Ugh, Roni,_ ” Veronica sniffles, wiping an eye with her finger. “You told yourself that you weren’t going to cry today. Anyways, I’m sorry to spring this on you—I’m sure this happens all the time. It’s just— I can’t tell you how thankful I am for that. Just by being who y’all are… in plain sight for the world to see… well. It was like you lifted the weight of the world off his shoulders.”

“He’s such a fan of you two,” she adds, laughing now. “Half of his dresser must be full of ‘history, huh?’ t-shirts, one in every color. I didn’t tell him you were coming in today—I didn’t want to disappoint him if y’alls plans had changed. He’s going to just _die_ when I tell him tonight.”

After a few more tearful moments of paperwork and goodbyes, Alex and Henry prepare to leave. At the last minute, Henry suggests they could sign a piece of paper for Veronica to take home to her son. _Owen—_ Alex writes at the top of the paper. _History will remember us. History will remember_ _you_ _._ He and Henry each take turns signing their name below.

Alex and Henry exit the store and walk silently across the street together, the weight of the moment lost on neither of them.

The next store they enter is far more private, with products arranged in tall aisles that prevent the other customers from watching the couple compare towels. The bedding, it turns out, doesn’t really need to be compared. Henry finds what he’s looking for pretty quickly (“Feel it, Alex!” Henry says passionately to a bewildered Alex, who doesn’t actually need convincing. He’s holding a pillow case up between the two of them. “It feels so… so… _comfortable._ ”).

Their final shopping destination for the day is Target, and it’s the one Alex is most excited for. He is giddy to be the one to take Henry into his first ever Target. They really only _need_ basic bathroom supplies—toothbrushes, hand soap, cotton swaps, some essential cleaning products, and the like—but it’s _Target_. Who knows what they’ll find before they leave the store?

Two hours and a cart full of products later, a slightly crazy-eyed Henry asks, “how did that happen?”

It’s early afternoon when their SUV pulls up in front of their soon-to-be home. Cash meets them outside, and it takes him, Alex, Henry, and another PPO to carry everything inside.

From there, Alex and Henry split up. Alex heads upstairs to wash the bedding and organize the bathroom supplies. Henry is excited to grab some measurements and start sketching out what furniture they’ll need to purchase. He’s already insisted on putting together the library himself, which is sizable enough that it will double as an office for both him and Alex. In reality, Alex will happily let Henry design whatever he wants—it didn’t take him long to realize that this is the first time in Henry’s life that he’ll get to really choose his own surroundings. If Henry wants a neon orange library, then Alex will let Henry have a neon orange library (although Alex _really_ hopes he doesn’t want a neon orange library).

Somewhere shy of two hours later, Alex is on the third floor, pulling their bedding out of the dryer. He brings it upstairs to their fourth floor bedroom, thinking he’ll take the towels down to the laundry room next but they are nowhere in sight.

Leaning over the staircase banister, Alex asks, “H, did you bring in the towels by chance? I’m done washing the bedding, so I was going to throw those in but I can’t find them up here.”

A moment later, Henry calls out in response, “Yeah, I found them—I’ll take care of it!”

“Thanks!” Alex shouts back, and turns back to make the bed.

A few minutes pass by the time Alex is standing at the foot of the bed, smoothing out the duvet cover and admiring his work. It’s almost impossible to believe that he’s standing here making the bed he’s going to share with his fucking _boyfriend_ , the Prince of Wales. Who would have ever expected this to be his life? He hears Henry’s footsteps approaching from the staircase.

“Listen, love—,” Henry starts before he even reaches the last step. “I know this is pathetic, but I think I need some instruction on doing the laundry.”

Alex looks up at the doorway to their bedroom just as Henry rounds the corner, red in the face. “I tried to start washing the towels, but to be honest— err. I’ve never used a washing machine before. There are so many buttons, and I don’t know what _any_ of them do.”

Henry’s expression is so innocent, and Alex can’t help but grin lovingly. Before he can respond, Henry stops a few footsteps away from him and looks on the freshly made bed with favor. “It looks great, Alex. It’s starting to feel like a real bedroom in here.”

He nods, slides next to Henry, and wraps his right arm around Henry’s waist. “It just sort of clicked with me— This is _our_ bed, you know? It’s ours… together. When we sleep here, neither of us will be ‘staying’ with the other.”

Alex glances up into Henry’s face just in time to see the significance hitting him, too. His lips are slightly ajar, curled upwards in the slightest hint of a smile.

“Hey,” Alex adds, slyly. He squeezes Henry’s waist. “Aren’t we supposed to, like, _christen_ the bed or something?”

“I don’t know. Is that a thing people do?” Henry asks, the hint of a smile turning into a broad grin across his face.

“I don’t know, either, but it’s a thing that _we_ could do.”

“Are you sure? I mean— you just went through the effort of washing the sheets and making the bed. I— I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate that by messing it up minutes after you’ve done all that work.”

Alex scoffs, and uses his arm around Henry’s waist to turn him so that they’re facing each other. “Baby, I would spend the rest of my life making the bed for you. You’re worth it.”

Alex leans forward to kiss Henry’s lips, shifting upwards with his toes and thrusting his hips towards Henry’s. There’s a spark when their bodies make contact with each other, and Alex feels the slightest hint of movement under Henry’s pants that tells him everything he needs to know. Henry curses into Alex’s mouth, and gently pushes him backwards into the bed.

Alex tumbles into the bed, landing on his back and pulling Henry down with him. The two start to make out with a desperate passion, but neither of them are wasting any time either. Alex is undoing buttons on Henry’s shirt, and Henry’s got his hands underneath Alex’s already, tugging it upwards.

Their lips break just long enough to remove each other’s shirts before they reconnect. Henry positions himself on his knees, bracketing Alex’s legs with his own. Alex’s arms are wrapped around Henry’s torso, rubbing his back while exploring Henry’s mouth with his tongue at the same time. Henry’s hands are fumbling with the button on Alex’s jeans, and Alex is keenly aware of the tightness in his own pants.

The way that Henry keeps grinding his hips down onto Alex makes it patently clear what he’s after, and still—after all this time—Alex can’t believe how fucking lucky he is.

 _“Jesus,”_ Alex moans, breaking their kiss so he can reach down and unbutton Henry’s pants just as the button comes loose on his own pair.

“I want—”

Alex nods and bites his bottom lip. “Mmhmmm.”

“Will you—?”

Unintentionally, Alex’s response comes out more like a growl: _“yes, sweetheart.”_

In a sudden flurry of movement, broken occasionally by quick kisses and whispers of profanities, both of their pants are pushed off their legs and dropped unceremoniously on the floor.

Alex managed to slide Henry’s boxers off with his pants, and he takes the opportunity to hold Henry in his hand while his own boxers are being slid down his legs. When they’re both finally naked, their bodies make contact again at two places simultaneously: their lips, and the hardest point on the each of them. A sound involuntarily escapes Alex’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Henry says, not in a wave of pleasure but rather in panic. “Lube—?”

And in a moment that might have lasted a split second or a lifetime, Alex thanks himself for sliding a bottle of lube into their cart earlier at Target while they were shopping for bathroom supplies. His eyes drift upwards and towards his left, signaling the bedside table built into the bed frame. His voice is coarse as he mutters, “in the drawer.”

Henry leans forwards and slides the drawer open. Alex closes his eyes and lets Henry take charge for the moment. Alex can barely comprehend how good this all feels, how _electric_ their bodies feel together, how much he enjoys sex with his boyfriend. He’s never felt this way about someone else before—never loved someone so passionately, so completely, offering every piece of himself to the relationship. Letting that kind of love into your life is terrifying, as he learned last year, but Alex trusts Henry with it and knows that he is receiving the same kind of love in return.

Suddenly, he gasps as Henry begins to apply the lube liberally to Alex’s body. Henry is using his palm, gripping firmly and ensuring that it’s slick. Alex opens his eyes and stares intently into Henry’s, and he reaches behind Henry’s body to scoop up some excess lube in his own hands. Smearing his fingertips together, he palms at Henry’s ass and finds the spot he’s looking for. Henry’s eyes widen with anticipation.

 _“Baby…”_ he whispers, just as a finger enters Henry. It’s followed quickly by a second.

Henry lets out a deep moan, unable to contain himself, and it’s his turn to close his eyes. In a moment that Alex can barely comprehend, Henry begins moving his hips around the fingers inside him. If he isn’t careful, Alex is pretty sure he could finish based on this sight alone. He realizes how bad Henry wants it.

“I _need_ it, Alex—” Henry says, suddenly, full of very pointed desire. His eyes flash open and he’s staring down at Alex.

“Hmmm?” Alex taunts. _“Need what, babe?”_

In that posh voice that Alex has always loved but used to pretend to hate, Henry answers, “I need you to _fuck_ me, love.”

Alex smiles and slips his fingers out of Henry. Before he has time to do anything else, Henry has already grabbed Alex by his base and is positioning their bodies. Alex comprehends the pleasure he feels from his tip brushing against Henry a mere second before Henry sinks down onto Alex, and his own mind goes blank.

For who knows how long, his head is pushed into the mattress and his eyes are closed once again. The _only_ thing Alex can focus on is the feeling of Henry’s hips grinding up and down. When he does finally open his eyes, the first thing they focus on are the complex set of muscles flexing in the pair of thighs bracketing his own legs. Thick, strong, beautiful thighs hardened into pure muscle by years of horseback riding. Gorgeous thighs, Alex thinks as he reaches his hands up and rubs the length of them. He can feel Henry shiver above him.

Alex blinks, blinks, blinks again. Now his eyes are locked on Henry’s hips, and _fuck_ —Henry is so hard right now, grinding his body up and down onto Alex. He becomes very aware of the noises of his own body being pushed into Henry’s, the occasional smacking sounds as their skin makes contact. Alex simply appreciates the sight of Henry above him for what feels like both two seconds and two years.

He notices a thin string of clear fluid connecting his stomach with Henry’s tip and before he even realizes what’s happening, Alex is so excited that something clicks inside his brain. In what seems like a single fluid movement, his arms reach up so that his hands are supporting Henry’s lower back and he sits up in bed.

The sudden movement causes Henry’s body to shift backwards slightly, and Henry wraps his arms around Alex’s neck for stability. This position gives Alex a bit more leverage, and he can thrust upwards while Henry sinks downwards. Based on the hiss that seems to involuntarily escape Henry’s mouth and the way his eyes roll into the back of his head, Alex knows he must be positioned inside Henry to give him _the most_ pleasure.

He looks down just in time to see a much thicker glob of clear fluid leak out of Henry. Alex wraps his right hand around Henry, still in awe of how _fucking hard_ he is. His thumb is on the underside of Henry’s tip and he slowly smears the fluid around.

 _“Motherfucker,”_ Henry whispers. Alex thinks he grins, but doesn’t actually have control over his own face at the moment—he gave up that control to the pleasure. There is a steady supply of clear liquid by now, and Alex has every intention of using it to his advantage.

“You’re going to _kill_ me,” Henry continues, and Alex can’t help but move his hand up and down even faster. Alex feels Henry tense, just the slightest, and he’s honestly not sure if this could be any better. “I’m going to _die_.”

Henry leans in and kisses Alex, deeply. As he starts to pull his head away, Henry bites down on Alex’s bottom lips and simultaneously squeezes around Alex, just as he is thrusting upwards into Henry.

And any sense of control that Alex was clinging onto is gone, and he feels his body explode inside of Henry’s. Foreheads practically pushed together, Alex looks into Henry’s eyes while he rides the waves of his orgasm. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers the sense of awe returning that Henry is _his_ , and _he_ is the one lucky enough to experience these moments.

Alex continues sliding his hand up and down Henry, moving faster with each stroke. Henry keeps riding Alex, and even though he is so _sensitive_ right now, the look on Henry’s face is worth it to him. Henry’s breathing hitches higher and higher, and Alex can feel the tension building. His eyes are closed, and _pure pleasure_ seems to contorted across Henry’s face.

“Alex…” Henry breathes, barely a whisper.

“Yes, Henry?” Alex’s hand speeds up.

“I— I—”

“What is it, _sweetheart?_ ”

“ _Fuck,_ Alex. _Fuck._ I’m—”

_“I know, baby.”_

Alex can barely finish the last syllable before he feels Henry’s orgasm begin. He’s careful not to loosen his grip or slow his speed. Alex wants Henry to feel as good as he did, and he’ll be _damned_ if he isn’t going to do what he can to make this last as long as possible for Henry.

Henry’s eruption covers both of their chests, and the two become a sticky, sweaty mess. They remain in this position for several moments—Alex still inside of Henry, Henry’s arms wrapped around Alex’s neck—while they try to catch their breath. Eventually, Alex lets his body fall backwards onto the bed and brings Henry with him.

Henry lifts his hips forward, kissing into Alex’s gasp as he slides off him, and rolls onto his back. They remain side-by-side on their backs for another moment, still breathing hard, still a heap of sweaty and sticky mess. Another minute passes of nothing but labored breathing before Alex rolls to his side and curls up next to Henry, his face in the crook of Henry’s neck, his lips kissing the hollow of Henry’s collarbone.

“Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor,” Alex says, ignoring the vibrations of a groan he can feel against the side of his face. “You, sir… are incredible.”

Alex can feel Henry’s cheekbones rise in a smile, “Bloody hell, Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz—you are pretty amazing yourself.”

“Love you, H.”

“I love you, too, Alex.”

“For the record,” Alex tilts his head upwards slightly and pecks the underside of Henry’s jaw. “I can confirm that messing up the freshly made bed was _entirely_ worth it.”

SUPER SIX

Fri, Jan 8, 3:14 PM

BUG

[Link: PRINCE HENRY AND ALEX C-D BEING SO DAMN ADORABLE AND DOMESTIC BUYING A BED TOGETHER (1/32) - Twitter.com]

Auntie Pezza

Lol, look at the PPO in the fifth picture. He looks like he would rather be literally anywhere else in the world.

PRINCESS B

How could they have possibly gotten 32 photos interesting enough to post online?

Auntie Pezza

They didn't.

They got maybe 5 photos interesting enough to post, and another 27 blurry shots of the same thing from slightly different angles.

irl chaos demon

i love that in 80% of these alex is laying on the mattress while henry reads the label

BUG

Are you surprised? You didn’t expect Alex to be reading labels, did you?

Auntie Pezza

I can’t tell if that’s if that’s a joke about Alex being too irresponsible to read a mattress label or if it’s about Alex ignoring the bisexual label practically printed on his forehead for years but either way I’m loling.

irl chaos demon

i’m a little surprised alex is wearing his glasses in public

BUG

Same, Nora. He’s done it a couple of times now in the past few weeks.

irl chaos demon

love changes a man

PRINCESS B

Where are our little lovebirds? They’re awfully quiet right now

irl chaos demon

well, what do we think they’re doing??? They bought a new mattress a couple hours ago

Auntie Pezza

BOW CHICKA BOW WOW

irl chaos demon

81% probability that one of them jumped the others bones within five minutes of the bed being made

BUG

🙅 🙅 🙅

If I go to my grave without having another conversation about my little brother’s sex life, it will still be several conversations too many.

PRINCESS B

I relate to that quite deeply

Fri, Jan 8, 6:41 PM

y’all are a couple of prudes

irl chaos demon

damn, son. Two hours later

HRH Prince Dickhead💩

What did I miss?

pictures of us trying out mattresses are all over twitter

HRH Prince Dickhead💩

Ah. Did they get a picture of us spooning?

Auntie Pezza

Yup.  
[image.jpeg]

awww, babe! look at how cute we are 😘

HRH Prince Dickhead💩

Bea, could you make sure Gran sees that one?

irl chaos demon

lmao.


End file.
